Back home Rachel and I looked through the book. I ran the title through a translation program. It came out as BOOK OF THE DAMNED. So, probably not a collection of bedtime stories for ancient Latin kids.
I called Lauren DiBello. She called Valerie, then set up a group call between all of us. Rachel listened in too.
I asked about the book. “I don’t know about that one,” she answered. “But I know Ben liked to collect old books. Occult stuff. He was really into that, and Viv went along with it. Sometimes I heard weird noises in her room. Not sex. I mean, yeah, I heard some of that too, but—sometimes it was like they were reading stuff out loud. And there was incense and candles that smelled funny. Bad.”
Rachel and I looked at each other. “And you said the smoke, the cloud, whatever—it went after your sister?”
“Y-yeah. It just zoomed over to her, and then it was gone. And she turned and ran away. Without looking at me, or Ben. She just—ran.” Her voice was shaking.
I sighed. “I think your sister and her boyfriend were trying to summon a demon.”
DiBello knew me, and knew the kind of cases I tend to stumble into, even if she hadn’t called me for my expertise in the supernatural this time. So she wasn’t surprised.I waited for Valerie’s reaction.
“Demon.” She breathed slowly. “Okay. That kind of makes sense. Sometime there were weird noises, like I said. Disgusting smells. Sometimes things broke for no reason. And Ben was always talking about stuff like ghosts and séances. They went on haunted house tours, stuff like that.”
“Is this important to the case?” DiBello asked.
“I think Vivian was possessed by the demon they summoned. That could make it hard to get her on the witness stand, to put it mildly.”
“Oh.” I heard Valerie suck her breath in. “Oh, no . . .”
“What will she do?” DiBello asked. “Where will she go?”
“That depends on what kind of demon is inside her.” I looked at the book.
“Neither of us reads Latin,” Rachel said.
“Will she try to—to hurt people?”
“Maybe. She might try to hurt herself.” I’ve dealt with demonic possession before, but it’s always different. Some demons have supernatural powers. Others just kill people the conventional way—knives, guns, blunt instruments, teeth. “All I can do is look for her. Talk to the people who know her, and check out the places she might be going.”
“And find an exorcist,” Rachel said.
“One thing at a time.” I know a few exorcists. I even performed one myself, once. “First we have to find her. I’ll get started on this list.”
“Let me know,” DiBello said.
“I hope—I hope she’s okay.” Valerie sniffed, crying softly. “God, this is a nightmare.”
I ran through the list of phone numbers as quickly as I could. I left messages, but I also connected with six or seven people. Some people had gotten calls from Valerie last night. One call was just a hangup. She asked another friend, Justin, where he was, but she hung up when he said he was just watching TV at home. A woman named Avery said Vivian had asked her to meet at a bar they went to often, but when Avery couldn’t go out, Vivian hung up.
I got a callback from one of my messages late in the afternoon—a woman named Judith, who told me Vivian had called at 2 a.m. insisting she come out to meet at a bar—a different bar than the one Avery named. She hung up when Judith refused.
That gave me an idea. I called Valerie again for a list of places her sister liked to hang out. Bars, nightclubs, restaurants, parks, the library? She laughed at the last one. “She’s a party girl. It’s how she met Ben.” The dead boyfriend’s name shut her laughter down. “I’ll, uh, get you something as soon as I can.”
Georgeanne came home at 4:30. “How was Rigo?” Rachel asked, standing up and stretching.
“Gave me an assignment.” She leaned against the office door. “And yeah, he hit on me. I leave tomorrow.”
Rachel frowned, unhappy. I was annoyed. I had to work tonight on the case, if Valerie got me that list soon. And I wanted Rachel to come with me, but she’d want to stay with Georgeanne on her last night here.
Georgeanne spotted the book on my desk. “What’s that?” She moved for a closer look. “Tome of the Unholy? A little light reading?”
“It’s for a case. You read Latin?”
“Catholic schoolgirl. It’s where I get my naughty streak.” She winked at me. “What kind of case?”
“It started with murder. Now it’s getting serious.” I told her the story so far. “If I had some kind of idea what demon they summoned, and if I could read Latin, and if I knew where Vivian is, and if pigs had wings—”
“Well, let me take a look.” She lifted the book. “I don’t have much packing to do.”
“You don’t have to spend your last night here doing this jerk’s work for him,” Rachel said. “He was going to make a special dinner and everything.”
“Hey, it’s your turn to cook,” I said.
“That’s okay, I owe both of you guys.” She flipped through the parchment pages. “This looks interesting, anyway.”
She and Rachel went into the living room as I checked my email. Valerie had sent me a list of Vivian’s 16 favorite hangouts. I recognized some of the places—they showed up in the media when celebrities visited the city—but others sounded like dives. I used a GPS app to map out an efficient route between them, then headed for the kitchen. Rachel and Georgeanne were on the sofa, leafing through the book. “I think I met that one once,” Rachel said, pointing to a picture. I didn’t ask.
I made baked ziti for dinner—the one from the Sopranos cookbook. “Leftovers don’t count when it’s your turn to cook tomorrow,” I told Rachel as she poured wine for Georgeanne. “How’s the book, Georgeanne?”
“Fun. There’s a demon that possesses children and makes them eat their parents, You know, good times.”
“Yuck.” Rachel sprinkled parmesan cheese over her ziti. “So what’s the plan, gumshoe?”
“Hit the bars and clubs.” I drank some water. “Look for the possessed sister.”
“Rough life.”
I took my shot. “Look, you can come with me. Actually, it would be easier if you came with me. Both of you.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “What’d you have in mind?”
“A hot babe would have an easier time getting into some of these places than a middle-aged gumshoe on his own. And getting people to talk.” I glanced at Georgeanne. “Two would be even better.”
“You go.” Georgeanne speared some ziti on her fork. “I don’t have any sexy clothes. Just camo gear in my duffel bag, and a few T-shirts. Plus, I might find something in that book.” She chewed. ”You know, comfort reading.”
“I’ll go.” Rachel kicked me under the table. “This doesn’t count as date night, though.”
I winced. “No chance of getting lucky?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t say that.”
“Just wake me when you come in,” Georgeanne said with a wink.
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